


That Was Then, This is Now

by DaniStormborn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniStormborn/pseuds/DaniStormborn
Summary: *** Brought over from my profile on fanfiction. Will be newly edited as chapters are uploaded. Starts at Season 1. ***Daryl Dixon's life has been hard enough since the walker apocalypse happened. Merle's disappeared and he's been halfway ostracized by the group he's found himself with. The arrival of ex. fiancée, Tessa Rovia, with a fifteen-year-old kid she claims is his, only complicates matters. But of course, he's Daryl Dixon, and when has his life "ever" been easy?****"You once told me, Daryl, that you didn't care how many kids we had, just as long as I was their mother." She swallowed hard. "Does that mean anything to you now?"Daryl gazed at her for a moment. His face was expressionless but his eyes were searching. Eventually, he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders."That was then, Tessa, and this is now. I don' know what else to tell you."
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter One

* * *

They stumbled out of the woods that night bedraggled and dirty like all the rest of them. There were two of them: a woman and a teenager. The woman was the last person Daryl would have ever expected to stumble upon that warm summer day. Never since the world went to shit, would he have expected to run into Tessa Rovia, let alone while hunting. The last person he would have expected to find _with_ her . . . was their son.

Or a kid she claimed to be their son, anyway.

The more he looked at the fifteen-year-old gangly teenager, though, the more he looked like _them_. Something they would have made _together_. He towered over the short, petite woman of full-blooded Cherokee descent beside him. He shared his mother's thick, blue-black hair and reddish skin tone. He had Daryl's blue eyes, though, lending the kid quite a striking air. He also had – dare Daryl say it – his disposition.

The kid that walked alongside his mother didn't act like a normal fifteen-year-old. He wasn't anything like Carl or one of the other dumbass kids Daryl had known back pre-apocalypse. This kid didn't talk and when he did, it was in nonsensical grunts and nods. Mannerisms that only his mother seemed to be able to decipher. The times he _did_ speak that actually required forming syllables, were surprising. His voice was deep and solemn. It was a voice that had interested gazes flitting to Daryl. Beneath that deepness was a slight huskiness that spoke of Merle.

Yup. By disposition _alone_ , it was as clear as day that the kid had to be Daryl's.

When they first reached camp, everyone seemed to freeze upon sight of them. It seemed like they had been thrust into some alternate reality. In what _normal_ reality had it become logical for flesh-eating dead people to come back to life? Upon sight of them, instinct dictated they lunge for their weapons. They had managed to prepare themselves for anything. Or what they thought of as anything. Tessa and her son had walked out of the woods first. The group didn't relax until Daryl walked out behind them seconds later. They relaxed further when they caught sight of his crossbow slung over his shoulder. He sent a silent nod towards a tall man wearing a Georgia Sheriff's uniform. The man sent a nod back and stepped forward, his hand extended outwards. Tessa smiled and shook it.

"Welcome. I'm Rick Grimes. Former Sheriff Deputy of King County, Georgia."

"I'm Tessa Rovia. This is my son, Ethan." She replied. Her hand ghosted over her son's shoulder. Rick nodded before gesturing to the group of people behind him. Introductions were made all around, one at a time. They all either nodded a greeting or smiled in tremulous welcome. In the case of the man named Shane, he gazed at them without bothering to try and hide the mistrustful look on his face. Finally, when everyone had been introduced, Rick turned his gaze back onto them. His brows furrowed in slight confusion and interest. His eyes, an electric blue, darted to Daryl. The younger Dixon brother had been hovering over Tessa's shoulder. For a brief moment, Rick wondered if it occurred to Daryl how protective that stance appeared. After a moment of entertaining it, he pushed the thought from his mind.

"Where are you guys from? How did you come across Daryl?"

Tessa smiled. "Well . . . our home is back in Cherokee, North Carolina. We were in the city for business when the walkers hit. We escaped and fled into the woods. We've been walking for . . . how long?" She asked, directing her question to her son. He seemed to think for a minute before shrugging.

"About two or three days? Give or take an hour or two."

Tessa nodded and added: "Eventually, we happened upon Daryl here." She threw a glance back at the man standing behind her. Rick's gaze cast an interested look onto him. It was a look that had Daryl's lips thinning in ever-so-slight irritation.

"Oh, we know each other! Well . . . me and Tess do, anyway. I've never heard of the kid 'till now." His gaze lingered on the kid standing beside his mother. His eyes were narrow. It was almost as if he was studying him. Another pang of interest speared through Rick. He watched the kid hold Daryl's gaze with a fearlessness that was impressive. Few could do that.

"That's interesting. How so?" He asked. Tessa opened her mouth to speak, but Daryl beat her to the punch.

"She's an ex -girlfriend."

"I'm an ex- _fiancée_!" Tessa corrected him, her tone biting. She sent him a scathing glare over her shoulder before turning a much nicer one onto Rick. "Ethan is our son."

The words alone resounded like gunshots through the ears of everyone there. Tessa heard Daryl utter a bitter curse beneath his breath as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Leaves and loose gravel crunched under the heels of his boots. Great – that was great! That was _just_ what he needed to make his life better – more drama!

Rick and the older man -- Dale -- blinked almost stupidly while they processed Tessa's words. The others' had more varied responses. They fell anywhere along the line of mouths dropping open in shock like Glenn, to Shane's utter _look_ of shock! Daryl scowled. Jesus, by the looks on their faces, you would have thought he was a damn virgin!

Lori, Rick's wife, was ever the mediator of the group. She smiled and darted forward, pushing through the people standing between them. She took a gentle hold of Tessa's shoulders. "It doesn't matter - of _course_ Daryl's family is welcome here! You guys can stay with us as long as you like!" A look of relief flitted across Tessa's face. She opened her mouth to thank her, but Daryl's 'tch' of anger interrupted her. Their eyes turned onto him, only to bear witness to the scathing glare he shot Tessa.

"They're not my family, Lori!" He snapped before sending a glare Rick's way. "My family was left on a rooftop to _die_." He sent a quieter, but no less scathing glare Tessa's way. "She ain' my family anymore."

As soon as she saw him, Tessa had known it was more than likely going to go this way. Daryl was prickly, to say the least. He was always easily needled, easily hurt. She hadn't expected things to go smoothly. All she hoped was that he would give her a chance to explain herself. To explain Ethan.

Without any further word on the matter, Daryl stalked past them towards his tent. His shoulder collided into Tessa's with a roughness that was unnecessary. Lori gazed after him with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. She echoed the sentiment of the motion being unnecessary. Tessa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Don't worry about him. It's not every day you find out you've had a son for the past fifteen years of your life." She spoke, her tone somewhat bitter, with tinges of sarcasm. It rose as she spoke so that her words could reach him as he walked away. He didn't reply. Hell, like his own son, he probably just _grunted_ a response! Her lips thinned, even as she was led off towards the nearby Winnebago. The others, including Lori, Rick, and Ethan trailed behind them. Daryl watched them go as he unslung his crossbow and placed it in his tent within easy reach.

No matter the anger and irritation that flickered through his body, he did have to admit . . . Tessa _did_ still look pretty good. Despite his inner raging Merle, he couldn't help but wonder if this wouldn't be as bad as he kept telling himself.  
  


* * *

_"How many do you want, again? You know . . . so I can keep it in mind for future reference."_

_Tessa grinned. It was dark in the room, but she could visualize the grin on Daryl's face. She didn't answer him immediately. She used the opportunity to snuggle deeper into his arms. She had washed the bed-sheets earlier. They smelled of Gain and lavender. She moved he head to his chest as his arm came up to wrap around her shoulders. The tip of her finger traced the small tattoo on his right pec. She bit down on her bottom lip as she spoke._

_"I want a boy and a girl."_

_"And what are their names again?"_

_"I want to have the boy first. You know, like me and Paul. I want his name to be Daniel Lee Dixon -!"_

_"Damn! Ain' that southern soundin'?" Daryl broke out into laughter. His hand came up to cover his face. Tessa grinned and released a playfully indignant sound as she slapped him on the chest._

_"_ I _think it has a nice ring to it, so_ fuck _you!" She teased. He continued to laugh as she added: "Then I want to have a girl. I want_ her _name to be -"_

_"Daisy Duke Dixon?" Daryl offered with a shit-eating grin. The look Tessa gave him in reply only made him laugh harder._

_"Okay,_ now _you're just being an asshole!"_

_"I'm sorry, I couldn' resist! Now go on -- tell me what you want to name our little girl!" His tone was stern when he spoke. Underneath it, though, she could see the underlying softness. She couldn't ignore it. Her eyes softened. She turned her gaze up to him. Like always when he gazed too long into her eyes, Daryl found himself stuck and breathless. He couldn't look away and when she spoke, her voice was quiet._

_"Catherine Paula Dixon. You know, for Paul. Cat Paul, if you're feeling spunky." She murmured before smiling. "What about you? How many do you want again?_ Four _?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows in challenge. He didn't bite and hop to her challenge. Daryl gave her a small smile and moved a lock of her dark hair out of her face. The strands collected behind her ear._

 _"I don' care how many we have, Tess. All I care about is that_ you _are goin' to be their momma."_

* * *

The memory that accompanied those words, echoed in Tessa's head. The words flew against the walls of her skull. She picked a cautious way over to where Daryl's truck and tent were. After asking where he was, she hadn't been surprised in the least to find him away from everyone else. Daryl was a loner -- the textbook definition of an introvert. Of course he wouldn't want to be in the group. Chances are, he didn't _consider_ himself part of the group.

She found the man in question sitting on the lowered tailgate of his truck. He was deep in the middle of cleaning his crossbow and his rifle, oblivious to everything else around him. He had sensed her approach, though. He glanced up as she made her way over to him. He caught sight of her, and a scowl darkened his handsome features, despite the food she carried.

_"You got your work cut out for you with that one, sis!" Paul grinned, white teeth flashing in the gloom of the bar. He turned his beautiful blue gaze onto her. One of his brows rose in amusement. She sent him a questioning look. They had never needed any words, her and Paul. Always, always -- for as long as either could remember, they had carried on silent conversations. Those silent conversations had been the bane of their mother's existence. The bond between her adopted son and biological daughter had bewildered Sadie Rovia. It had driven her mad on multiple occasions._

_"Why do you say that?"_

_"He's an enigma, that one. Be careful, Tess. You don't ever want to give that one an excuse to hate you!"_

Daryl, Ethan, Paul -- why were all the important men in her life, blue-eyed?

"I hope you're hungry!" She spoke up, purposefully cheerful. "From what I remember, you always were. I hope this . . . _situation_ hasn't changed anything." Daryl grunted a response and glanced at her before nodding to the space on the tailgate beside him.

"Put it there, I guess . . ." He mumbled. Tessa nodded as she sat the plate down before backing up a comfortable distance. He glanced at her again. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

"How's Paul? You know where he is?"

A bloom of warmth flowered in her heart at his words. It touched her, him asking about her brother. He knew how close they were, how worried about him she probably was. After the death of their parents pre-apocalypse, Paul was the only family she had left. Not that Daryl would know that.

After a moment, she shook her head. "I . . . I don't. Before this happened, we kind of lost touch. He would call me here and there to check up on me, but it was intermittent. The last I know, he was somewhere in Georgia learning about escapology -- whatever the fuck that is! When it hit, I don't . . ." She stopped and swallowed hard. She shrugged. "I don't know what happened to him. But Paul's tough, you know that. He's probably running around here somewhere, being all Billy Badass."

Daryl chuckled and nodded his agreement. "I'm sure he's fine, Tess." He spoke, soothingly, before a blanket of silence fell over them. After a moment, she cleared her throat.

"Are we . . . are we ever gonna talk?" She asked, her voice as cautious as her movements were. Daryl's body shook in a wry laugh.

"I don' exactly know what there is to talk about." He confessed with a shrug. "Way I see it, Tess, is that you walked out on me in the middle of the night without a word. No goodbye or an explanation or anythin' like that. So, figurin' that, I don' suppose there _ain'_ nothin' much for us to talk about!"

Tessa's jaw hardened. Her voice lowered -- became hushed. She was like Daryl -- she wanted _nobody_ to overhear them. "Don't you _dare_ make me look like the bitch in this situation, Daryl! I would have _killed_ for you to have been there for our son! Don't you _dare_ insinuate otherwise!" Tessa hissed. Her eyes grew wet with brimming tears. She had gone over this encounter many times in her head, sometimes alone, sometimes with Paul. Every scenario, she had acted out. But never, _never_ had she thought he would actually drive her to tears so soon into the conversation. She figured the stress of meeting Daryl again after fifteen years was the cause. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel weak. She didn't want to cry in front of him. "You have to understand that Merle made it impossible for me to stay! Every time I was there with him and you weren't, it was never 'Tessa'. It was never 'Daryl's old lady' that I always got whenever you _were_ around! I was always the 'squaw' or the 'blanket-ass' or the 'bushnigger'! Paul, when he was around, was always the 'spic', the 'wetback', the 'fag'. Why do you think he never wanted to come visit?" She shook her head. Her eyes were wide and pleading through the tears. "Love can only handle so much, Daryl. Eventually . . . my love couldn't take it anymore."

"So you left me with my kid in your belly?" He hissed, feeling his anger start to bubble up to the surface. He turned his gaze up to hers, the blue depths crackling with electricity, with fury he had harbored for damn near a decade and a half. "You left me _knowin'_ that you were pregnant! _Knowin'_ that you never intended on tellin' me?"

She shook her head. "That's wrong, Daryl! I didn't figure out that I was pregnant until weeks later! By that time, I was too far away that it wouldn't even have mattered if you knew! For the love of God, Daryl!" She paused to collect herself. A hand flew to her head and her eyes closed. When they opened, she was forcing herself to remain civil. "I was two states away in Cherokee! Me, Paul, mom, dad - there would have been _nothing_ that you could have done!"

"Was there another man?"

Tessa's brows knitted together in confusion. "What - excuse me?"

Daryl's jaw hardened. "I don' mean before -- as the reason you left. I believe you when you say it was Merle. I mean, afterwards. When you left. Durin' the fifteen years from then to now. _Was there_ . . . another man . . . that came around and raised my son for me?" Daryl repeated the question after elaborating. His words were slow, as if he was speaking to an inept child. His anger was starting to bubble again. Tessa could tell he was straining to keep that anger in check. She gazed at him for a moment, assessing the situation. Daryl loved kids – he always had. Once upon a time, before the whole world went to shit, she remembered them lying awake in bed after making love. They would tease each other about how many kids they would have. She knew how badly it would tear him up inside to know that another man _had_ been there to raise his son when he couldn't. That it hadn't just been Paul ( _that_ , he would have accepted). It would hurt him knowing that he had been as much of an absentee dad as his own father had been. Even though it had been completely _her_ fault that he hadn't known in the first place.

She didn't want to do that to him. Yet, she also knew she had to answer him truthfully -- she couldn't lie to him, not on this. She knew Daryl. This was not a question that he was about to let go easily, and he would know if she was lying. She swallowed hard and looked away. She blinked back a few tears.

"Paul was there in the beginning. He helped me a lot." She released a tearful laugh. "Ethan took his first steps with Paul, you know? Right across our apartment's living room floor. I lived with him in the beginning, when we first got to Cherokee. But then Paul left -- I don't blame him. Not really. After that . . . yes, Daryl. There was another man."

The look of agony that pierced Daryl's eyes immediately lanced her heart. She reached out to him but he recoiled from her touch as her hand smoothed over his shoulder. It was all in one swift, fluid motion. He hopped to his feet, his crossbow lying on the tailgate right where he had been sitting. "What was his name?" He asked, his voice hard and bitter. His gaze was unable to meet hers. He had pinned his eyes onto the dark earth beneath them. Tessa's gaze pleaded with him as she shook her head. Her hands rose up between them -- outstretched to him.

"Daryl, please -!"

"What was his _name_ , Tessa?" He demanded, the anger spit through gritted teeth. His eyes rolled to pin hers with a ferocity that frightened her. She swallowed hard and shook her head again.

"Sam Moon. He was from Minnesota -- Minneapolis -- and was a friend of Paul's. He moved to Cherokee to teach high-school science. The kids loved him – everyone did! No one cared that he was one of the only white people in a city full of my people!" She shook her head. "Daryl, _please_ understand what I was going through before you pass any kind of judgment! I had just given birth to a child whose father I would more than likely never see again! I was a single-mother – a _struggling_ single-mother -!"

"Oh, is that right Tess? And whose fault is that? 'Cause it certainly ain' mine, let me tell you!" Daryl interrupted her, his voice thick with sarcasm. Tessa shot him a look as she continued:

"I was alone, with the only non-judgmental company being my brother. My self-esteem was absolute shit _because_ I had a baby! I needed help, both financially and for my mental well-being! Sam, he . . . he was kind and he didn't judge me. He used to come to hang with Paul and when Paul left, he . . . he stayed. Before I knew it, he . . . he had stepped so seamlessly into our lives that for a moment, it was almost like he had always been there!" She shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading again. Moving forward, she placed a hand on his chest. She could feel his heart pound underneath her palm. For a moment, she was speechless at how _hard_ it was pounding. Like a war-drum. "I _never_ stopped loving you, Daryl. Eventually, that put a hole in our relationship – a hole that we couldn't recover from, no matter how hard we tried. He found it impossible to compete with your memory, and I -!"

Daryl interrupted her by shaking his head, in disgust or sorrow, she couldn't tell. "That's enough, Tessa. I don' wanna hear no more." He grumbled before fixing her with another searching stare. "I'm guessin' by the fact that I found you and Ethan alone, that he's dead?" Tessa nodded. He returned the nod, gaze asking her a question he didn't have the guts to ask.

"He died in Atlanta." She spoke, answering that silent question. "We found ourselves surrounded in a tiny janitor's closet in some building we tried to find refuge in. The only way out was through a hole in the ceiling above us. He boosted me and Ethan up but then couldn't get up himself. He died so that we could live." Daryl nodded and turned to go. It was the universal Dixon sign that the current conversation was over. Tessa's hand shot out and latched onto his forearm. Freezing, he turned to face her. He found that he was quickly growing tired of the pleading look she was insistent on pinning him with. "His name is Ethan, Daryl. Your son's name is Ethan -- Ethan Daryl!" She told him, the last ones coming out in a breathless voice. Daryl couldn't help but swallow hard. "Hate me all you want to, but please, treat him kindly!" Tears fell from her eyes as she shook her head. "He's your _son_ , Daryl, whether you want to believe it or not. He deserves nothing but your kindness. And I'll take nothing but your scorn and loathing if that's what you insist on. It was _my_ fault you never knew him – not his!"

 _"I don' care how many we have, Tess. All I care about is that_ you _are goin' to be their momma."_

Tessa swallowed hard as her grip on his forearm slackened. He didn't immediately pull away and she took that as a sign that he was listening. "You once told me, Daryl, that you didn't care how many kids we had, just as long as I was their mother." She swallowed hard. "Does that mean anything to you now?"

Daryl gazed at her for a moment. His face was expressionless but his eyes were searching. Eventually, he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"That was then, Tessa, and this is now. I don' know what else to tell you."

He said nothing more after that. He turned around and walked off in the direction of the dark woods. He needed to be alone. Tessa stood there and watched him until even his shadow disappeared into the trees. When she could no longer see him, she turned around and moved to rejoin the others at the campfire.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudos or a review if you are so inclined. They would be duly appreciated!
> 
> \-- DaniStormborn

* * *

_That Was Then . . ._

From the day she first met him, Tessa Rovia knew that Daryl Dixon would be hers. Likewise, the day he first met her, Daryl Dixon knew that Tessa Rovia would be his.

Daryl had always been the loner in school. People knew him as the infamous Merle Dixon's little brother. As the alcoholic, philandering Will Dixon's youngest son. Treated as little more than trash beneath the squeaky clean shoes of the teachers, he kept his head down. He blamed his piss-poor grades on the asshole teachers not giving him a chance. His bad attitude was because he was misunderstood. His anger was because his father would light into him whenever he was angry or didn't like the way his face looked that day. The other kids hated him and weren't shy about letting it show. He spent the majority of his school day smoking joints in the boy's locker-room. Occasionally, he would find company with the other loners in the school. He had a good friend, Dirk, but no one else -- not really. He counted down the days until he could drop out like Merle did, but until then, it was a constant Hell.

Until she came.

Paul and Tessa's arrival swept the school like wildfire. They didn't often have new students, so their arrival was the talk of the school for _months_. Tessa was popular, the girls swooned over Paul ( _Eggs on their faces later_. Daryl remembered thinking back with amusement). He remembered the way Tessa looked that first day of his senior year. Almost like it was yesterday. It had been the first day of her junior year -- she was a grade below him. Paul had been a senior like him. She had pulled her long, blue black hair into two perfect braids, one falling over each shoulder. Her big brown eyes twinkled in the bright lights of the hallways and classrooms. Everyone seemed to like her and her sparkling smile. She wore moccasins every day, along with that same carved wooden amulet. She claimed the amulet had been an heirloom from her grandmother. Paul had been adopted, but Tessa was a full-blooded Cherokee like their parents. Their family were back in Cherokee, North Carolina. She loved bright colors – pinks, blues, and reds. Anything that would make her dark skin shine.

The first time he saw Tessa, Daryl remembered marveling over how beautiful he thought she was. Prettier even than Cindy Crawford or Stephanie Seymour (Merle like Cindy. Daryl had a preference for Stephanie). Whenever he stood before her he felt like a peasant before a Queen. The feeling only heightened after they became official. How could someone so beautiful and good ever want to have anything to do with a fuckin' Dixon? His family were the white trash of Shooter's Mill. He had grown up hearing from both his mother and his father how he was nothing more than trash. That no decent woman would ever want to be with him. When he was feeling cruel, his father used to tell him that he would end up marrying a woman like his mother. Marla Dixon was well-known as the town bicycle.

Daryl had grown up hearing that he was ugly – that he was weak and useless. He had grown up with beer bottles exploding over his head as something as natural as breathing. That kisses with fists were better than nothing at all.

Merle had escaped through the juvenile system – an escape of a certain sort, anyway. Daryl didn't have such luxuries.

He was on the verge of dropping out. The day before, though, the strangest thing happened: Tessa noticed him. He wasn't worthy of her by a long shot but yet, for some reason, she had her eyes set on him. The redneck Dixon that wore nothing but flannel and jeans. He walked around in leather work boots while she and Paul wore Gap and Calvin Klein. She laughed at his lame jokes and was patient through his tirades and his mood swings. She was there for him when his father's slaps became too bruising. When the glass from the beer bottles cut him too deeply.

Tessa had been the one who got him to finish high-school. Thanks to her, he got his diploma. She had been his first in everything. She had been his first ever real friend, his first fuck, the first woman he had ever gone down on . . .

She had been the first girl he loved. Not puppy love, either! With her, he felt a legitimate sweaty palms, butterflies-in-the-stomach love that made him die a little death every time he saw her. Every time she looked at him and saw only him in a crowded room.

The best thing? All those reasons Daryl thought made him unworthy of her, were the very reasons she had been attracted to him in the first place. She loved the soul-tearing honesty of his beautiful blue eyes. The way that, despite his self-esteem issues, he could also be cocky and confident. She loved his roughness. She loved that, despite his anger and the physical abuse he suffered, he still possessed a heart as big and golden as anyone else's.

The first night they slept together was the day Daryl graduated from high-school. Beaming, he felt proud of himself for the first time in years. He had accomplished something! Something his dad and his mother told him over and over again he would never do. He remembered her excitement as she ran into his arms after the ceremony. She had planted one of the biggest kisses she had ever give him on his lips. She kissed him with such a heated vigor that it almost made his knees weak. When they parted, it wasn't because they wanted to. The amused sound of Daryl's uncle Jess and his aunt Rebecca clearing their throats, reminded them that they were not alone.

His uncle Jess, aunt Rebecca, and Tessa had been the only ones who had bothered to come to his graduation. Her parents had come, but that was for _Paul's_ graduation. They knew of Daryl, but he got the distinct feeling they didn't like him -- her mother, especially. Marla Dixon had been dead for little over a decade by then. Merle got gotten locked up again for petty larceny. As for Will Dixon, he was on a bender with some waitress he met at the local bar. He stood there and thought about it, though. With his arm looped around Tessa's waist, Daryl came to a realization. There would have been no three other people that he would have wanted there more.

It was through the din of excitement surrounding him and his classmates that Tessa stood up on her tiptoes. As his fellow classmates took pictures with their families, her lips appeared at his ear.

She whispered: "Tonight, I want you to take me to the stars, so I can feel what you're feeling now!"

Daryl almost shit his pants when he heard those words. He could only nod numbly instead of a spoken reply. An excited, slightly shy grin spread across her features. He realized he didn't want to treat this encounter as any other guy would. This was _Tessa_ \- this was the one girl that made him short of breath. Who made him feel as awkward as a hormonal, pre-teen boy. He whispered that he would be more than happy to take her to the stars. He was going to do everything in his power to make it a moment she would never forget.

Later that afternoon, he managed to drag one of the old mattresses into the barn. Somehow, he lugged the big bastard up into the hayloft and fetched one of his old man's best bottles of Maker's Mark. From the kitchen cupboard, he retrieved candles, and relatively clean sheets from the hallway closet. He wanted the entire thing to be perfect. As soon as he saw her eyes, wet with tears when she stepped up into the candle-lit hayloft (his old man had tanned his hide afterwards, too. Will had roared as he punched his lights out about how stupid it was to have lit candles in the hayloft when it could very well catch on fire), he knew it had been beyond perfect.

With Tessa, it seemed his life was turning into something perfect before his very eyes. Something he could only dream about in his wildest of dreams. She had been the first to instigate thing. Slowly, she pulled down the straps of her dress to bare her nudity to him for the first time. The thin summer clothe fell to pool around her feet -- the motion causing his heart to thrum like a wire in his chest. He knew with every ounce of conviction in his body that he had found his heaven. In Tessa, he had found his perfection made flesh.

It was funny, too. Right around when Tessa stepped into his life, was the day Daryl began dreaming again.  
  


* * *

Daryl stirred in his sleep, a movement that had him pressing more firmly against the warm body beside him. Tessa's nails ran along the taut skin of his arms as they pulled her closer. It was silent in the barn that night. Only the rhythmic song of the crickets and cicadas kept them company. Minds still fuzzy from the Makers Mark (of which only a fourth of the bottle was still left) Tessa closed her eyes. She felt his chest rise and fall as his warm breath danced across the back of her neck. She couldn't help but smile as she rolled over to face him. Her movement woke him and he greeted her with a soft kiss. Callused palms flattened out on her back as his arms wrapped around her.

"Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you or anything?" He asked, worry in his tone, his voice low and quiet. Their bodies were still pressed together. So tight she could feel him reach down between her legs and cup her sex.

Tessa smiled as the mixture of her arousal and his climax coated his fingers. There was a dull ache and a slight tingling between her legs, but she had never felt better. "I am. Thank you!" She replied. The dopey smile on her face reassured Daryl more than her words. He chuckled as his hands began to run up and down her back then.

He pressed his lips against hers. It earned him a delicate moan from the back of her throat. Their lips parted and Daryl pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry if your first time with me wasn' . . . what you wanted . . ."

Tessa's eyes fluttered open. Her gentle fingers trailed down his jaw, noting the self-doubt that was evident in his eyes. There were times when she could kill his father and his mother for treating him like they did for as long as they did. Such a handsome guy like Daryl Dixon shouldn't have been carrying such low self-esteem. "You were perfect, Daryl! I wouldn't have wanted my first time to be with anyone else!"

Daryl's lips curled into a small smile. His cheeks flushed. "Really?"

She nodded as she planted a kiss on his neck. Daryl let out a low groan as the kiss turned into a suck and then a nibble. He pressed his hips toward her while bringing her closer to him. She lovingly licked the mark she'd left on his neck. Daryl stopped her by gently grasping her chin. He looked deep into her eyes before moving to assault her lips with his. She kissed him back, knowing that she couldn't get enough of him. His taste, his scent - it was all so intoxicating and addicting, like her own personal drug made flesh.

Their tongues moving together, Daryl placed a warm, callused hand on her chest. As they parted to catch their breaths, Daryl felt her heart beating underneath his hand. Strong and rhythmic. He watched her chest rise and fall before looking back up at her to find she had been watching him. She gave him a sleepy smile and placed her hand over his.

"I'm glad you were my first too, Tess." Daryl confessed in a whisper. "I love you so much!"

"I love you too Daryl . . . I always will . . ."

* * *

_This is Now . . ._

Daryl surprised himself with how calmly he awoke that morning. Regardless of his heart pounding an aching tattoo against his chest. He opened his eyes, only to find the stretched canvas of his tent above him. He found himself clinging to the dream with every ounce of energy he had, but like every dream, it was futile. He forgot the fine details as soon as they had come. By the time he sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, he was in as bad a mood and as exhausted as he was he first went to sleep.

Heavy footfalls approached his tent. They crunched on fallen leaves and loose gravel. He looked up as the tent flap unzipped, revealing Rick's face. Daryl released a sound of irritation as he rubbed the sleep from one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "No offense Officer, but your face isn' exactly the one I would have chosen to wake up to!"

Rick chuckled. "I just thought I'd let you know that we're moving off in twenty."

Daryl furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why? Isn' here good enough?"

Rick shrugged. "I suppose. I get a bad vibe from this place, though. Ever since the attack. Dale mentioned a much more isolated spot further up the quarry. I've talked it over with the others, and we think it'll be better there. It'll only be for a short time – while we figure out what to do from there."

Daryl nodded and shrugged. "Well, don' see why you need my permission. It's not like I'm gonna pop up one day and jus' leave."

Rick shot him a small smile and shrugged. "I figured you would be less inclined to now that Tessa and Ethan are here. Either way, though, I thought you should still know." Daryl nodded and gave him a wry 'thanks'. Rick rose to his feet and headed back to the others. They scurried around the campsite packing their things -- making sure they weren't forgetting anything. He was already getting tired of people looping him, Tessa, and the kid together in a group. He hadn't been with Tessa in fifteen years! He hardly knew the kid aside from the fact that he was supposed to be an insanely good shot. It bewildered him on how people could loop them in one unit.

Daryl shook his head and pulled on his boots before stepping out of the tent to the much too cheery outside world. He stretched, his hands reaching for the sky. His back popped in a very satisfactory manner.

His gaze sought out Tessa immediately. She was helping Carol and Andrea collect the drying laundry strung up on lines by the tree line. It seemed she was already fitting in well, just like high-school. Ethan lingered on the outskirts of the camp, looking a tad uncertain of his place. He did seem to take more of a liking to Glenn opposed to Carl. Daryl couldn't help but crack a smile. It figured his son would be drawn to Short Round and not the annoying kid.

Tessa looked up, feeling his gaze on her. Their eyes connected across the way and he could have sworn she knew what his dream had been about. They broke the gaze at the same time, going off their separate ways, not even sparing each other a good morning. He moved to pack his things but stopped when he saw Shane move in to talk to Tessa. Her blue-black hair shone in the bright morning sunlight. It would have taken a complete dumbass to not see Shane trying to pick her up.

His hands tightened into fists. His jaw hardened. He relaxed, though, when he saw Tessa take a small step away from him. She gave him a gracious smile as she gestured to Daryl. Shane shot him a look before stalking off. She glanced at him over her shoulder and she smiled. That done, she removed one last towel from the clothesline. Then her and Carol both headed to the Winnebago.

Daryl knew what she told Shane to get off her back. They were together again – she was taken. He knew it was a lie, despite a part of him that wanted very much for it to be true. Another – the Merle side - snarled: "Good riddance."

  
  


"You know, he's quite a handsome boy . . ."

A look of interest appeared on Tessa's face upon registering the words had been spoken towards her. She glanced up at Carol standing across from her on the other side of the clothesline. Tasked with removing the laundry drying on the line, the older woman glanced at her and smiled. "Your son, I mean. Ethan? He's quite the handsome boy." Tessa laughed and nodded as she tucked a folded towel into a basket fitted against her hip.

"I tell everyone that he got his good looks from his daddy – that it had nothing to do with me what-so-ever!" She grinned with a laugh. It was a laugh Andrea mimicked while Carol nodded. Tessa's gaze darted to Daryl as he climbed out of his tent. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment before returning her attention to her task.

"Daryl's a good man. He has his code, but at the end of the day, he does right. Or tries to." Carol spoke. Tessa smiled as she laughed again.

"Daryl has always been a good man. But he's also always been really, _really_ curious. To the point to where he has developed the bad habit of never being able to avoid a conflict!" She shot Carol and Andrea both an exasperated look. It was a look both women returned with a light laugh.

"I mean, no offense, Tessa – I don’t wanna bash your taste in men or anything -- but I find it hard to believe that you used to . . ." A look of slight disgust appeared on Andrea's face. One that Tessa found herself grinning at. " _Be_ with Daryl Dixon of all men!"

Tessa chuckled. "Well, a long time ago he was a lot less crass than I'm sure he is now. That, and he cleans up quite nicely."

"The crassness was probably Merle's influence . . ." Andrea muttered. Tessa nodded in agreement.

"Oh, I'd bet my last dollar on it! He always did put an unnecessary amount of hero worship into that pig of an older brother of his. I suppose when I left, he had no one else to go to . . ." She trailed off and Carol noticed, for she pinned the beautiful woman with a curious look.

"Your relationship ended badly?" Tessa's lips thinned as she turned her head to look at Daryl. Their gazes locked immediately. For a moment, she thought she could see the cocky, sweet teenage boy that she had dated in high-school. Then it was gone, replaced by the surly, angry man she knew now. Did she do that?

Tearing her eyes away from his, she rededicated them to the laundry. "You could say that . . ." She replied, her voice terse. Lori's voice rang out, asking if Andrea could come help them pack some things into the Winnebago. Andrea smiled and bid them a polite 'excuse me'. She picked up her basket and headed to the Winnebago, leaving Tessa alone with Carol.

Tessa sensed Carol's movements slow. Heavy footsteps approached her. They didn't sound like Rick's. They were much too heavy and burdensome for Daryl's hunter-light steps. When she looked up and saw Shane smiling down at her, all she could do was give a tight smile.

"Good morning, Tessa. How was your night? Sleep well, I hope?" Tessa nodded as she folded up one of Carl's shirts and placed it in her basket.

"It went well. I thank you for allowing me and Ethan to sleep in the Winnebago last night. I know you didn't have to."

Shane waved her words aside. "Ah, don't thank me – it's Dale's Winnebago. He's the one you _should_ be thanking!" Tessa nodded and her smile became tighter, almost uncomfortable. She continued to gather up the laundry. She glanced at Carol and the woman shot her a weak smile as she too carried on. Their paces matched, increased. Anything to get away from Shane's skeeziness. From the moment they were introduced, Tessa caught a bad vibe off Rick's best friend. She didn't know what it was, but a part of her screamed not to trust him. To constantly hold him at arm's length.

She could feel eyes boring into her back and knew they were Daryl's. Only he would take particular notice of Shane talking to her.

"So, you and Daryl was an, uh . . . an item back in the day, huh?"

Tessa froze and she caught Carol do the same out of the corner of her eye. She quickly recovered herself, though, and shot him a smile. She nodded as she glanced up at him. Their paces increased further. "Yeah, we were. Why?" She asked, only to catch Shane as he flushed. She fought to keep from rolling her eyes. Tessa, like Paul, had grown up knowing they were good-looking. She found it irritating, though, when men would act like Shane when they talked to her. Dumbfounded, awkward -- as if they devolved to cavemen around her. Women would often turn into giggling, vapid little schoolgirls around Paul. It used to infuriate him. Especially when they learned he wasn't interested in women and they continued to act the same. With men he found attractive, it wasn't so bad. At least he was that lucky. With Daryl, the awkwardness had been endearing. He was someone who wasn't experienced in girlfriends and charm. With Shane, who all but oozed the playboy aura, she knew how Paul felt. It was irritating because it was a ploy. One he didn't think she was smart enough to notice.

He shrugged as he gingerly rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just . . . Daryl didn't seem too happy to see you, and --!"

"Well, I won't lie to you Shane. We did end things badly back then, before Ethan was born." She sighed as she folded another shirt, taking a small step backwards from him as she went. "But we talked last night. Cleared up the air a little, and decided to give things another go. For old time's sake and for the sake of our son, you know? This new life is so hard! Sometimes all you want is some stability from the past. I guess we can offer that to each other." She adopted an expression she hoped was full of enough puppy love to deceive him. She then turned this look over her shoulder to Daryl. She gestured to him. He tensed, scowled, but continued with what he was doing, nonetheless. "I expect I'll be sharing a tent with him soon enough. That way I won't be imposing too much on Dale and Andrea." Shane nodded and shot Daryl a dirty look before he shot her a tense smile and a nod. He stalked off then, and Tessa could hear the laugh in Carol's voice when she spoke:

"Honey, if anyone deserved an Oscar for a performance, it is _you_! Well done!" Tessa laughed as she looked back over her shoulder at Daryl. She smiled before she unclipped the last towel from her line.

"Well, Carol, when one spends a fair amount of time around the likes of Merle Dixon, one learns to become a very skilled actress!"

* * *

It’s times like these when Ethan thinks most of his uncle Paul. Mainly of how much he misses him. How much he wishes he was there with them. When all he feels is uncertainty thrumming through his veins, he wonders what Paul would tell him. His uncle would tell him to calm down. To breath – deep inhale through your nose, slow exhale through your mouth. He would tell him to concentrate and center himself. But above all: _remain calm_! You didn't make good decisions when you weren't clear-headed and rational.

Paul taught himself martial arts. He was skilled in had hand-to-hand combat, too. Ethan's mother nor his stepfather knew either of these things. Nor, did they know that his uncle Paul had been teaching him the rudiments of both. You know . . . before the world spontaneously went to shit.

So, yeah. He could hunt. He was a damn good shot (if he said so, himself). He could hold his own without the weapons, too. Something, that, thankfully, hadn't come up yet. He didn't exactly want to explain to his mother how he knew how to disarm a man of his gun before climbing him like a tree and bringing him to the ground in under a minute! His mom loved her brother. Though, Ethan was pretty sure Tessa would kill Paul for teaching her son hand-to-hand combat without letting her know first.

"Hey, Ethan, you want to help?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Ethan smiled as Glenn Rhee moved to join him. He had been lingering by the tree-line, uncertain of where people needed him. He didn't want to get underfoot. New groups made him nervous. While he could tell this one was a good one, he couldn't stop feeling on edge.

_Breathe, Ethan. Three times. In deep through your nose . . . that's it . . . now out slow through your mouth . . .!_

_Center yourself. Everything will be alright._

Grin on his face, the older boy gestured to the duffels and trash bags heaped behind him. Those were the ones they still needed to load in their respective vehicles before taking off. Ethan nodded and told him he'd be glad to help out. Glenn nodded, excited to have some help as he led him over to the pile.

"So which goes where?"

"Uhh . . ." Glenn spoke, seeming momentarily bereft on how to answer him. He stood there thinking before a gruff voice behind them spoke.

"Those three right there go in the 'bago. The trash bags are all goin' with Morales and his folk. Those two right there are mine. Wanna hand 'em over?"

Glenn stilled while Ethan slowly turned around to face the man standing behind him. Daryl's face was expressionless as he gazed at his son. After a minute, Ethan reached over, grabbed the two bags Daryl had pointed out, and dropped them at his feet. The corners of Daryl's mouth twitched in a smile but he managed to keep it from showing at the last minute.

_Breathe, Ethan. Just breathe_ . . .!

Daryl stood there, as if he was on the verge of saying something. After a moment, he did, surprising Ethan. "I hope . . . I mean . . .!" He paused, irritated at himself for not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to say. Ethan arched a brow, waiting. "I wasn' around. I know that. But . . . you had a good life at least . . . without me?"

Ethan balked, surprised by the question and not knowing exactly how to answer it. When he finally did answer, he wasn't thinking of Sam. The man who raised him, who put up with his mom's shit. No, when he spoke, there was only one man he was thinking of.

He nodded. "I did. My uncle Paul was always there. He made sure I was good."

Daryl nodded, seemingly both pleased and relieved. "Good. _Good_! I remember Paul. He was a good man. I liked him."

"He never talked about you. Even when I asked." Ethan spoke, not knowing until catching Glenn wince out of the corner of his eye how much those words could hurt. Daryl didn't seem phased by them. He merely smiled and chuckled.

"He wouldn'. That's the kind of man Paul was."

"What do you mean?"

Daryl shrugged. "It wasn' his place to talk about me. So, he didn'."

Bending down, he picked up the duffel bags and headed off towards his truck. Glenn and Ethan watched him go for a minute before Glenn released a slow whistle and shook his head. "Dude, how are you not shitting yourself right now?" He laughed. " _I'd_ be shitting myself! Daryl is fucking _scary_!"

Ethan didn't answer him. Now that he had talked to him, he could see how people would think that. He had a gruff exterior. He carried an aura that all but screamed of how he had absolutely _no_ qualms of splitting your head open with an ax. But Ethan didn't get that feeling from him. Maybe it was because Daryl was his dad, but all Ethan felt coming from him was . . . curiosity. The desire to reach out and touch him, as if he wanted to make sure he was a real, living, breathing person. If he squinted, Ethan could see the _need_ to know him hanging around Daryl's shoulders like a shroud.

In fact, he had lied. He had asked Paul about Daryl once and only once. He had expected his uncle to not answer. He was surprised when he smiled and said that he saw a great deal of Daryl in Ethan. Especially as he grew older. At first, Ethan had scoffed and said it was impossible -- how could he resemble a man he didn't even know? Paul's smile had grown bigger as he said:

"What was silent in the father speaks in the son, and often I found in the son the unveiled secret of the father. Nietzsche." His brow arched. "Look it up. Educate yo’ self, _son_!"


	3. Chapter Three

* * *

"Thank you _so_ much, Tessa - you have _no_ idea how much of a big help you've been today!" Lori thanked her, almost breathless with grateful relief. They finally sorted out the last of the clothes and delivered them to their various owners. The look of exhaustion on the other woman's face was quite clear. Tessa shook her head.

"No, no, don't mention it, Lori! You guys need all the help you can get after the attack and I'm happy to help! In fact, I would feel like we were imposing if we didn't do _something_ to earn our keep!" Lori gave her a thankful smile as she turned to face her, clutching Carl's folded shirts to her stomach. Tessa returned her smile as she clasped her hands together. "So, where will me and Ethan be on the road?"

Lori sighed and thought for a moment. "Well, we could possibly fit you guys in the Winnebago, but it'd be a rather tight fit, I'm afraid . . .!" She told her with an apprehensive look, and Tessa heaved a sigh as she gestured to the ladder bolted on the side.

"What about on top? We can ride on top if it makes things any easier." She replied, and Lori's eyes widened in alarm.

"On top . . . of the _Winnebago_? Don't you think that would be dangerous?" Tessa shrugged. Her fingers skated over the smooth carved surface of the pendant that still hung around her neck. She had replaced the original chain some time ago, but the pendant remained. It was forever a reminder of the grandmother she had so loved and adored.

"Well, what other choice do we have? I suppose me and Ethan did more dangerous things while making our way through Atlanta. It's no big deal." She spoke, her voice weak. Lori's eyes flickered in the direction of Daryl. He stood at the side of his truck, helping T-Dog in loading various things into the bed around Merle's bike.

" _Well_ , now that I think about it . . . I'm pretty sure that Daryl has room in his truck up front with him _and_ a semi-free bed. Ethan's not exactly a big boy – I'm sure he could fit!" She suggested. Tessa sighed as she glanced at her son standing beside her. Ethan shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shane lingering about a meter or so away from Lori and her. She wasn't stupid. He was more than likely listening in on their conversation while trying to pretend to be fiddling with one of the last bags. When she noticed him standing there, she knew she couldn't think any more about it. If she wanted to keep Creepy Shane off her back, then she and Ethan both would _have_ to travel with Daryl. As awkward and painful as that might be.

She nodded at her son. Silently, he turned around and began the short trek to Daryl and his truck. Tessa sighed and uttered a quiet thank you to Lori along with an even softer smile. She then took off after her son, catching up with him as they neared the truck. T-Dog was leaving as Daryl caught sight of them. He heaved a sigh, one that she could tell was one of slight irritation. It was almost as if he knew they would be coming to him.

"The kid can have the bed. Tess, I guess you're up front with me." He mumbled as he checked on the bungee cords keeping Merle's bike upright in the bed. Satisfied they were secure enough to withstand the bumps and jostles of the half-broken highways and dirt country roads, he nodded. Tessa returned the nod and gave a smile to Ethan. He placed their things in the bed with everything else before climbing into it himself. It took him a moment to find a comfortable spot. Finally he did and it was then that Tessa moved around to the passenger seat. She hopped inside right as Daryl slid into the driver's side. Turning around, he rapped two knuckles on the back windshield. Ethan turned to face him.

"You good to go back there, kid?" Ethan grunted a reply and nodded in response as he turned around. Daryl sighed and rolled his eyes as he turned around and started the truck. "Kid don' say much, does he?"

Tessa shot him a look. "No, _Ethan_ doesn't! He's like his father that way." She replied and like father, like son, Daryl grunted in response. She rolled her eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair. They were taking off by then, the truck rumbling along behind the Winnebago. Silence blanketed the inside of the truck. It lasted for a good ten minutes before a grin of remembrance spread across Tessa's face. "You want to know something? When I gave birth to him, the nurses at the hospital thought he was the most beautiful damn baby they had ever saw! 'Oh, Tessa, where did he get those _eyes_ from?' and 'Why doesn't he ever _cry_?' Ethan _never_ cried as a baby, Daryl – I swear to God! Whenever I would get those two questions, I'd always say that he got his good looks from his daddy. And like his daddy, he wouldn't say a damn thing _until_ there was something that needed to be said! Then, Goddammit, you'd hear him out or it'd be your ass on the line later!" Daryl grunted again, although an amused gleam flickered in his eyes. "Paul thought it was the most hysterical thing on the face of the planet."

"Which daddy was the one he got his good looks from? Was it the sperm donor hick or the educated Yankee that took the sperm donor's place?"

"Daryl, _stop_!" Tessa spoke, quietly. She shot him an exasperated look. "You were never a . . ." A look of abhorrence crossed her face. " _Sperm donor_! Ethan _is_ your son, Daryl, and you know it. Hell, you knew it since the moment I first told you – I saw it in your eyes when you looked at him!"

Daryl released a reluctant grunt. "Yeah, but that's only 'cause the kid never says anythin'! You're lucky he never said more than two words to me the first time he met me. If it had, it wouldn' matter if the kid was the spittin' fuckin' image of me or not -- I'd be disputin' his right to call himself my son out of principle!" He spoke. There was a teasing lilt to his tone. One that had a grin splitting across Tessa's face. At the sight of it, Daryl became momentarily dumbfounded. Not because it was most likely the happiest grin he had seen in decades, but because it was Tessa. Every time Tessa grinned, it was like the angels themselves shone from her face.

Hell, not even Merle could be in a bad mood whenever Tessa started grinning.

"Why are you grinnin' like that? You look like the fuckin' Cheshire Cat over there!" His brows furrowed in confusion. Tessa shook her head as she moved to lean on her elbow on the truck door. The grin disappeared, but was replaced with a slightly smug smile.

"Oh no reason. Just that it's a damn good start."

"It's a damn good start to what?" He asked. He was getting more and more irritated the longer she sat there and forced him to play Twenty Questions. Tessa shrugged as she returned her eyes onto the road stretching out before them. That same slightly smug smile remained on her face.

They sat in another blanketed silence for a good ten, fifteen more minutes. Then, with a quickness that surprised him, she shifted towards him. She scooted over to sit in the middle of the truck seat, Daryl jumping at the abruptness of it all. She reached up and the fingers of her hand moved to run through his short brown hair. Her other hand remained in her lap and at first, he recoiled almost violently from her touch. A stormy look appeared in his eyes. "What the fuck are you doin', Tess?" He demanded, his voice dripping with venom. Tessa frowned for a moment. A look of amusement entered her eyes when she realized he would _allow_ her to continue playing with his hair. He felt himself curse inside as his teeth grit. Dammit! It was like she wouldn't take him seriously on anything else after halfway admitting to one thing. What the Hell? Why were they back to this high-school bullshit?

"I like your hair longer, Daryl. You don't look good with short hair." She grinned. "You look weird. I don't know - short hair just doesn't fit you somehow . . ." He glanced at her. His face remained expressionless and wary (he didn't like being touched, even by her), but his eyes held a teasing gleam. She found herself thankful he starting to loosen around her again. Even if it was in fits and bursts.

"Yeah, you're probably right, Tess. 'Cause, there ain' exactly much to hold on to anymore, is there . . .?" He spoke, his voice quiet and a tad silky. Tessa shook her head and bit down on her bottom lip in slight awe. Was he flirting with her now? Was Daryl Dixon _actually_ flirting with her? This new Daryl was so different from the Daryl she used to know, that it was taking her a while to figure him out. If she didn't know any better, though, she would _definitely_ say that he was flirting with her.

Tessa cocked her head, a look of thoughtfulness appearing in her eyes as she observed him for a moment. "No, no, now don't be too hasty there! I think there's still plenty to hang onto, Daryl . . .!" To prove her point, her fingers buried in his hair and curled into a fist. His head jerked back with the firm grip and her eyes flashed. It was a flash and a movement that made his mouth go dry. "If it's not the hair, then you know good and well that there's that very fine ass of yours that I won't hesitate to grab onto, too!"

For once, Daryl didn't grunt a response.

For once, he didn't answer at all.

For _once_ , in a long, long time . . . Daryl Dixon found himself speechlessness!

For some reason, that pissed him off more than anything else she had done since arriving back at the camp with him. How _dare_ she come back and think everything is hunky-dory with them? How _dare_ she think he'd forgive her that easily?

Fuck her.

With an irritated hiss, he jerked his head forward and she allowed him go with a grin. He glanced at her and rolled his head, making sure there were no kinks in it. "Don' know what I expected with you, to be honest." He shot her an angry gaze. "You were always a _flirt_! _Just_ like your brother!" Tessa grinned as she moved to lean back against the passenger side doorway. Making a show of it, she lifted her legs and placed her feet in his lap. She watched his jaw harden. When he moved to send her an angry glare, she saw the gaze slip. For the barest flicker of a second, she saw that angry gaze dart down to her cleavage. For a moment, she thought about bringing it up, but thought better of it. She wanted to push him, but not too hard. Push Daryl too hard and he shut down out of pure spite.

"There's a difference between Paul and me. Paul is flirty with everyone -- like some gay men can be. "Being cheeky", I think he calls it. I'm only a flirt with you, sweetie-pie!" She replied as she moved to chew on the corner of one fingernail. He released a sound of anger as he devoted his attention back onto the road. He vowed he would not say a single word more to her for the duration of what he begged and hoped, would be a very short trip.

He didn't move her feet away though. By the time they had reached their new campsite, his left hand was resting on them. His thumb had been rubbing soothingly along the valley beneath her toes.

* * *

"Hey, Daryl, where are you runnin' off to so fast?"

They had reached their planned campsite faster than they would have expected. It had still taken quite the trip, though, especially for Daryl. He had never thought he'd be stuck in such close confines with Tessa for so long again. It had almost drove him bat-shit. Rick had noticed how quickly the man had all but flung himself out of his truck when they stopped. Turning around, he reached into the bed to pick up his crossbow. It had been so fast, in fact, that Rick's brows knit together in slight confusion. He figured it had something to do with him being cooped up for so long on the road, but he'd be wrong. In fact, Daryl wanted nothing more but to get himself away from Tessa! Even then, fifteen years after the last time they had made love (or had they angrily fucked? He couldn't remember), the woman still had the power to make his head swim and his blood rush white-hot through his veins. And not exactly out of anger.

"I'm goin' huntin'. We still gotta eat, right?"

That was all he said and he said it so gruffly that it temporarily took Rick aback. He was becoming used to Daryl's volatile temperament, but this gruff attitude had him wary.

"You know I don't want you going out alone -!"

"It'll be fine, Rick – Daryl, take Ethan." Tessa interrupted him. Coming to an immediate stop at her words, Daryl twirled back around to face her. Sensing choppy waters, Rick raised his hands in abdication. With a grin and a laugh, he chose to gracefully back out of the conversation. Turning, he moved to help get things unpacked. More than likely, the situation was already settled. He didn't care who went with him so long as he wasn't the only one going out there alone.

Daryl gazed at her in confusion for a moment. "What'd you say?"

Tessa nodded, confidently. "You heard me - take Ethan with you." Daryl pursed his lips in irritation but he managed to hold her gaze. He needed to get away from her and think, not teach some kid still wet behind the ears how to hunt! He couldn't think and teach someone at the same time - he wasn't that damn talented!

"Tessa, I'm not about to -!"

"You don't even need to teach him anything! I swear!" She interrupted him with a shrug. "He already knows everything. He knows how to hunt, track, and _move_ like a hunter. You cannot possibly teach him anything that he doesn't already know." Daryl arched a brow, finding serious doubt in that statement. He didn't care who you were or what the Hell you were doing - you could _always_ learn something new.

Besides, the kid was fucking fifteen-years-old! What could he _possibly_ know that the thirty-six-year-old Daryl didn't?

And still, _what_ was with Tessa pushing his buttons today?

"Can he shoot a bow and a rifle?" He asked. Tessa arched her own brow now.

"For the love of God, he's your _son_ , Daryl! He came out of the womb with a six-gun in one hand and a bow in the other!"

He had to admit . . . the woman had him there.

Body thrumming with impatience, he stood there and thought for a moment. Eventually, he heaved a defeated sigh. He gave a short nod before gesturing to Ethan still sitting in the bed of the truck. "Grab your bow and follow me, kid. We'll be back soon." He spoke. Ethan nodded and hopped gracefully out of the bed, landing squarely on both feet. Daryl turned and took off towards the woods without waiting for him. His intention was to get at least a few minutes worthy of thinking time. He stopped when he felt Tessa's hand latch onto his forearm. Turning around to face her, he saw slight apprehension glittering in her eyes.

" _Promise_ me that you'll give him a chance, Daryl!" She hissed, the words meant for just the two of them. He nodded, giving her a half-shrug as he did so.

"Yeah, of course I will. Why wouldn' I?"

She shook her head and moved closer to him. "No, Daryl, I want you to _promise_ me that you'll give him a chance! I want a Daryl chance, too, not a _fuckin'_ Merle chance!" His jaw hardened and a look of irritation flickered through his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I _promise_ you that I'll treat the kid good, Tess! No wet willies, no abandoning in the woods to find his own way back – you happy now?" She gave a slow nod and released his arm. Their gazes still locked, he heaved a sigh. "You better be thankful that Merle's not here, though. You thought bein' around him back then was bad? _Shit_ , think of the names he'd come up for you now – and not-to-mention for the kid too!" He shook his head and let out a laugh as he turned around and headed back in the direction of the woods. Ethan stopped at his mother and pinned his father's back with a look that Tessa couldn't decipher. If she had to judge, though, the closest approximation would probably be anger or mistrust.

"Give him a chance, honey, please. You just met each other! You guys aren't going to be the best of friends after a few days." Tessa begged him, her voice soothing as she ran a hand over his chest. "Your uncle was right. You guys are more alike than you think – than _either_ of you wants to accept right now!" She glanced at the trees Daryl had disappeared into and her lips thinned. "Like he said, feel lucky that your uncle Merle ain't here to complicate things!"

* * *

Over a couple hours in the woods together, Daryl found himself impressed. At first, he didn't think he would be. After those couple hours, Daryl came to a realization. He was going to have to start giving the kid more credit than he was already reluctant to do. The kid was good. _Damn_ good!

Four squirrels and a rabbit later still had Daryl mired in his own thoughts while the kid did all the hunting. Thank God he was such a good hunter too! If he hadn't been, they would have gone without meat that night and that would have pleased nobody.

"Where did you learn to hunt? Not from your uncle, right?" Daryl asked as they moved almost soundlessly through the woods. They were following what looked like turkey tracks through the underbrush. He knew Paul couldn't hunt for shit, but still found himself praying it was him and not that Yankee bastard. Ethan gave a shrug.

"No, it wasn't uncle Paul. Friends' dads and stuff. Growin' up in Cherokee, you learn a few things. Momma says I'm a natural." He glanced at Daryl then, briefly, before he turned his eyes back onto the forested path in front of them. "She has me wonderin', though, where I got my so called 'natural' talent from. You haven't made a single catch since we entered the woods!"

Daryl released a grunt of derision at the kid's challenging tone. He found himself having to mentally stop himself from going off on the kid and cussing him out. He was a cocky little bastard, he had to give him that. Of course, then again, if Daryl would have been on his game, the kid would have been left coughing in the dust. That, he was one hundred percent confidant of! But he _had_ promised Tessa that he would be kind to him, so he managed to largely keep his anger under control.

Well . . . as kind to him as Daryl Dixon knew how, anyways. Often, that resulted in him stuffing the Merle side of him into the far recesses of his consciousness.

"Well, I reckon you got it from me. From what I can remember, your momma couldn' hit the broad side of a barn with scattershot! Little bit better with a bow and a pistol, but not by much. Paul, he was good with a gun. Could shoot decent. But he couldn't hunt worth a shit! He was a fuckin' surgeon with a knife, though, I remember that much!" Ethan nodded and let out a sound of acknowledgment, one that Daryl couldn't help but release a little laugh at. From the kid's cockiness to his sounds of acknowledgement, the kid seemed to be most definitely his.

They moved in silence for a while, still tracking the turkey in the soft earth. After a moment, Ethan glanced up at him and spoke. "You know . . . momma told me the truth a long time ago . . ." Daryl's brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at him.

"The truth . . .?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah, Paul told her to. He said it wasn' fair to keep it from me. She told me she left you and fled to their parents in Cherokee because she couldn' stand my uncle any longer. Your brother, I assume? My uncle Merle. A few weeks after arrivin', she found herself pregnant with me."

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, Merle could be . . . a little hard to handle, at times." He muttered and Ethan nodded, his eyes glued to the trail winding through the forest in front of them. Daryl glanced at him again. "Just . . ." Ethan turned his eyes onto him and Daryl's eyes narrowed. "I know I asked you earlier, but . . . _you_ _did_ have a good life, right? Before the walkers came and fucked everythin' up, I mean? I know you said Paul was always around, but what about your momma? She did manage to give you a good life, didn' she, her and that . . . that _Yankee?"_ He spat the word out like it bile on his tongue, and a brief look of amusement crossed Ethan's face.

"You mean Sam?"

"You call him Sam?" Daryl asked in interest. Ethan nodded.

"He was never my dad. I mean, yeah, he treated me like a son and he raised me, but . . . for some reason I could never acknowledge him as my dad. It felt . . . _wrong_ , inside. If anything, I wanted to call _Paul_ dad but I never did. I knew how much it'd hurt momma." He shrugged. "And yeah, momma gave me the best life she could have afforded – she and Sam both did! We weren' rich but we never went hungry." He glanced at Daryl out of the corner of his eye. "She missed you, though, you know? Sometimes, when I was little, when Sam was asleep or wasn't home, I remember lyin' in bed in my room at night, listening to her cry herself to sleep. She'd say your name - a lot! I asked Paul about it one day and he got really sad. They were always really close, you know? It's almost as if he knows what's she feeling all the time, and feels it too. He said momma never wanted to leave you but she had felt driven into a corner. That she'd talk about it with me when she was ready."

Daryl adopted a scowl although he couldn't help but feel his heart twist in his chest. "Yeah, well, it wasn' my choice not to be in your life, kid, let me tell you!" His voice was bitter. Ethan nodded.

"I know. Paul said that too. He always jumped to your defense. He always told me not to judge you too harshly. That the Daryl he knew would have wanted me with all his heart!" His voice was quiet and it was then that they relapsed back into the same silence they had been in a few minutes before. This time, it was slightly more awkward, with neither knowing what to say to the other. Of course, what could they say? All Daryl knew about the kid was that he was his son and all Ethan knew about the man, was that he was his father. Daryl was the exact opposite of the clean cut Sam Moon. Sam, who had always worn khakis and polo shirts, or American Eagle flannel shirts. Daryl was dirty and rough around the edges. He was walker killer extraordinaire. He was the first textbook example of 'redneck' Ethan had ever had the pleasure to encounter. He found it hard to believe that this man ever managed to qualify as being his mother's 'type' long enough to sleep with her! Let alone that he was first conceived as a little white speck in the older man's gonads! Or that his uncle Paul had liked him enough to _vouch_ for him -- constantly!

Daryl came to a stop and Ethan stopped alongside him. The older man was gazing up into the sky above them. It was then that Ethan noticed the long shadows that had started to call the forest their home. Hints of dusk was starting to break as the sun started fading over the treetops. "We should probably head on back. We ain' gonna catch that turkey by nightfall, I'll tell you that right now!" Daryl spoke. His voice was its customary quiet grumble. He dragged his gaze from the sky and instead, turned it onto the trail behind them. "We got enough food for today and I should get you back before your momma throws a fit!" Ethan nodded in agreement as they began their trek back to the camp, once again in silence.

"You know, you're not, uh . . . exactly what I expected my father to be like. You know, whenever momma or uncle Paul would talk about you when I was a kid." Ethan finally spoke. Daryl let out a scoff of a laugh, a look of amusement and curiosity entering his eyes.

"Oh yeah, is that so? And what did you expect me to be like, kid?"

Ethan shrugged. "Not . . . not this way!" He admitted, and Daryl released a laugh. At least he was truthful.

"In other words, you didn't expect your momma to get knocked up with some redneck asshole's kid, right?" It took a moment, but finally, Ethan nodded. He opened his mouth to say something further, but Daryl interrupted him with a heaving sigh. "Believe me, kid, I've been findin' myself wonderin' that as well lately."

* * *

Around these parts, he wasn’t known as Paul, anymore. Now, he was known as ‘Jesus’. At first, he found it a little offensive. After a while, though, the name started to grow on him. The Rovias hadn’t been what you’d call “religious”, so it wasn’t like him and his sister had been forced into church every Sunday! Even still, he knew what Jesus looked like. Or the white man’s vision of their Lord and Savior, anyway. On a bad day, he was totally disdainful of the name. On a _g_ _ood_ day, though . . .!

If he _wanted_ to be that narcissistic . . .!

Then, yes, he could silently agree that he looked a little bit like the white man’s interpretation of Jesus H. Christ.

“Hey, you said you were from Atlanta, right?”

The newcomer looked up at him, wary eyebrow raised. He was kneeling at their campfire trying to get warm. “Y-Yeah. Northern Atlanta. Why?”

Jesus (or ‘Paul’, as Tessa, Daryl, and Ethan called him), swallowed hard and pulled out the photo he had already taken out. He held it up to the man, and the stranger studied it for a moment. A pretty dark haired woman with matching son. “Do you recognize these two? Have you run into them at all?”

After a moment more of studying, the stranger eventually shook his head. “No. Sorry, man. Atlanta’s completely overrun now. I barely made it out alive myself!” He sent him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. She’s really pretty. Your wife? Son?”

Jesus shook his head. Feeling disappointment and despair eat further away at his heart, he sighed and tucked the photo away in his pack. “No. Sister and nephew. They were in Atlanta on business when the shit-show hit.”

The man whistled and shook his head, sending Jesus another apologetic look. “I’m sorry, man! Losing family’s rough. Hopefully you’ll find them, though. We all gotta believe in something – especially now!”

Jesus nodded, remaining silent. He stared into the fire, not willing to admit how right the man was. _I’ll find you, Tess!_ Jesus spoke, vowing with all his heart to do so. _I won’t stop until I find you and Ethan! I’ll bet my life on it_!


End file.
